


Here

by LilyElk13



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Chick-Flick Moments, Comforting Dean Winchester, Episode: s02e05 Simon Said, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Nausea, One Shot, Pain, Sam Winchester Whump, Sam Winchester's Visions, Short & Sweet, Sick Sam Winchester, Vomiting, Whump, not graphic at all promise, of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 10:23:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17979527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyElk13/pseuds/LilyElk13
Summary: it hurts like hell, these visions. but dean's here. he's not so alone long as dean's here. set during 2x05, when dean comes back from a beer run to find sam on the floor in the midst of a vision.





	Here

Sam’s barely sitting up when Dean comes in, arms laden with a six pack and some other groceries. Sam doesn’t notice, he’s too busy wallowing in the agonizing pain ripping through his skull like the sharpest knife is slicing open his brain. He knows he’s hyperventilating, but he can’t bring himself to stop. 

 

The pain is just  _ so bad.  _

 

“Sammy?” He barely registers Dean’s question, but before he knows it, his older brother is crouched in front of him, beer and keys long abandoned on one of the beds, and helping him sit up fully. 

 

“Hey, hey, shhh. Talk to me, what’s going on?”

 

Sam reaches blindly for Dean’s collar, as if the touch will ground him, but he’s uncoordinated and dizzier than he’s ever been in his whole life. 

 

Dean catches Sam’s shaking hand and presses it to his chest. 

 

“Hurts. My head. Can’t-” He breaks off in an agonized grunt, pressing his head to his knees in an effort to quell the pain and now nausea that’s beginning to creep up as the dizziness increases. 

 

“Yeah, that’s it, head between your knees,” Dean mumbles, gently resting a hand on the back of Sam’s neck and pushing his head further down. “Just breathe, it’s gonna be okay, don’t worry, I gotcha.”

 

I gotcha. Dean says that a lot. Sam wishes he could tell him how grateful he is for those words. The undeniable sense of calm they bring him. He’s safe here. Nothing’s gonna get him. Well. Something could always get him. But if he’s with Dean, the chances of dying in such an encounter are significantly lower. And that’s enough for Sam to feel considerably better. 

 

“C’mon, Sammy. I know you can come out of it. We’re not gonna have a dumb chick flick moment are we, dammit?” 

 

“You- love- chick-” He breaks off into another groan of pain. 

 

“Shuddup.”

 

Sam can hear the smile in Dean’s voice. Dean’s hand moves down his neck to his back, where he begins to rub soft circles over the broad plane of Sam’s shoulders. He keeps Sam’s hand against his chest. 

 

“C’mon, in and out. In and out. Good, good, you’re doing so good Sam, just keep breathing.”

 

It’s times like this that Sam is shocked by how gentle Dean can be, all soft voice, quiet reassurances. Dean, the hardass, stoic machine that never needs anything from anyone. Here. Rubbing his little brother’s back as he comes down from the worst headache he’s ever had. 

 

Here, now holding the trashcan from between the beds under Sam’s chin for him to puke into. How Dean knew is beyond Sam. But damn is he glad he did. 

 

“S’alright little brother,” He soothes as Sam works his way through more nausea. “You’re gonna be just fine. Your body just doesn’t know how to handle all this, right? But we do, huh? We’re gonna handle this like any other thing we handle.”

 

Dean’s babbling now, just talking endlessly, a soothing litany in Sam’s ear, and Sam couldn’t be more grateful for it. Dean’s here. 

 

“Oregon,” He chokes, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth. His voice is hoarse and throat sore from all the retching. 

 

“Okay, okay. Let’s get some water in you first, okay?”

 

Sam nods, letting Dean take away the can and give a final firm pat to his back. 

 

He lets his eyes slip closed and leans against the cool metal bed frame. 

 

“Alright, bitch. Here ya go.” Dean hands him a paper cup of cool water and drags his fingers so lightly up Sam’s spine that he shivers. “Jerk,” he responds, remembering Dean giving him the chills all the time when they were little. The fact that Dean’s doing it again for the first time after Palo Alto makes Sam smile a bit as he sips the water. 

 

Dean’s here. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope yall enjoy! 10/10 would die for these boys but i still couldn't resist writing some missing whump rip


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